Celebration, Or a Lack Thereof
by boldly
Summary: Leon doesn't do birthdays. He just doesn't.


.. Fuh. So I'm a couple of hours late getting this up here, but I wasn't over at LJ. So, I'm not completely made of fail.

Semi-obligatory birthday fic for Leon. Because he doesn't _get_ it, and it amuses me, to some degree. (Okay, no end. It amuses me no end.)

Happy birthday, grumpy.

For **So Said the Gramaphone**, and I own absolutely nothin'. So there.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

He was sitting – very quietly, he might add – by himself and well out of the way. There were very few moments in his life that were given solely to him and nothing else, and he _cherished_ those moments above all else. They were rare. Few and far between. He really hadn't had more than a moment's peace in the past week or so, so perching himself very carefully at the end of his sofa seemed like a perfectly normal, perfectly sane thing to do. It was so quiet that the sound of a pin hitting the hardwood floor would have almost seemed loud. It was so still that the passing of a dust mote just beyond his peripheral vision stood out more than it was probably supposed to. And he sighed, allowed himself to relax just the slightest bit.

Until there was, quite suddenly, the presence of a small body with too much blond hair in his lap. He tried not to sigh, to sound _irritated_, but it came out anyway.

Cloud merely smiled, softly, _knowingly_, and loosely draped his arms over the brunet's shoulders. "What do you want for your birthday?"

"To be left alone," the other replied, deadpan, utterly even-toned and sounding so _bored_ with the idea that it almost hurt him. Aerith had already been after him to let her bake him a cake (which he didn't like, anyway) and Yuffie had followed him around asking the same question as the blond in his lap until he'd glared at her so hard she figured it would be in her better interest to leave well enough alone.

Leon didn't _get_ the hype about birthdays. What was so great about celebrating the passing of a single year? So he was a year older, so there had been three hundred and sixty-five sunrises and sunsets since their last attempt at bringing him out of his shell just long enough to get together with the people that called him a friend. He didn't _get_ it. He didn't _want_ to get it.

He really did just want to be left alone.

"I'm serious," Cloud pressed, "she's planning _something_, whether you like it or not. You might as well make it easier for us." _'She'_ being Aerith, the brunet mused with a wry twist of his mouth that he hid by rubbing absently at the bridge of his nose. It didn't surprise him, but that didn't mean he was going to make _anything_ simple for _any_ of them.

"So am I." Leon frowned, gray eyes just as serious as ever. "Just … don't worry about it, all right?"_Please?_ He wouldn't say _that_, but the tone of his voice was about as pleading as it ever had been.

"No cake?"

"I don't like cake."

"... Pie?"

Another look. "Cloud …"

The blond slumped, arms going lax around his neck. "Okay, okay …" He paused, teeth worrying the edge of his lip for the span of his next breath. He then looked up, the blue of his gaze a bit brighter than it usually was, and on some level … that worried him.

"Can I give you something, anyway?"

Leon sighed. He knew when to let go. Apparently, Cloud didn't. "Fine." _Just don't, for the love of Hyne, make a big deal out of it …_ And even though he was grumbling inwardly, the line of his mouth something stretched so thin, the tips of his fingers rubbed small circles over the small of the other's back. An absent sort of thing. An afterthought.

The smile that curved Cloud's mouth at his response was something secretive, almost sly. And that worried him even more.

And he didn't know what he'd been expecting – just that it hadn't been _that_.

The press of the other's lips was soft. Almost too soft to count; the pressure behind the movement alone caught him off-guard, and he couldn't help that his mouth fell open just the slightest bit, just enough to allow the subtle, teasing flick of a warm tongue against his bottom lip before it receded. Before Cloud sat back a little, that smile having returned, a shadow of its predecessor, but still just as effective seen out of the corner of his eye as those lips pressed to his ear.

"Happy birthday, Leon."

And that was it. The body in his lap disappeared as quickly as though it had never been there at all, and the brunet found himself frowning at the floor, brows furrowed so tightly that it was a wonder they didn't stick that way. He shook his head.

_Sometimes … I really don't know what to do with you._


End file.
